


found a martyr in my bed tonight

by sleepinnude



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Not really spoilers but I guess spoilers, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, ProfoundBond Server Prompt, i mean it's prayer phone sex but, pb100, post 15x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepinnude/pseuds/sleepinnude
Summary: Dean prays to Cas, but it's probably against regulations.it's prayer phone sex y'all.[Fill for Profound Bond Server prompt: sacrilege.]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 272
Collections: ProfoundBond Drabble Challenge





	found a martyr in my bed tonight

**Author's Note:**

> there's some real mild spoilers for 15.11 so tread carefully.
> 
> also, while cas totally consents, dean is just sorta praying to him without him knowing that. so be careful if consent stuff is dodgy for you!
> 
> fill for the [Profound Bond Discord Server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond) prompt "sacrilege" & thanks to [evolving.diamond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evolving_diamond/pseuds/evolving_diamond) for the beta!

_Cas…_

The familiar voice washes over him, strumming through his Grace, and Castiel closes his eyes. A fondness rolls through him and for not the first time he wishes there were a way for him to answer Dean when he prays. Of course, as far as Castiel knows, Dean is just down the hall, in his own room at the bunker, so it wouldn’t be very hard for them to have an actual conversation. But Dean is praying to him and if he’s praying, there’s a reason for it.

_Cas, I hope you can hear me._

“Of course I can,” Castiel murmurs, thinking of Purgatory. Thinking of being slumped against a tree, with Dean’s voice ringing through him like the man had struck a tuning fork somewhere deep within Cas. This is far more comfortable -- slung over his bed and stripped-down, bone-tired in a way that was getting more and more common. But aside from the ache of exhaustion, Cas feels good. Jack is back, the boys have their luck, they have a plan more or less, Jack is back, Dean isn’t in Alaska anymore, Dean had looked at him -- had met his eyes -- and trusted in what he said.

_Y’know, Sammy used to pray all the time. Before, I mean, when he was little. And I guess I did, too. Not all the time, but when I was a kid when things seemed really bad or whatever. It never really helped. It did for Sammy, made him feel better or whatever. Not for me. Not until you._

A breath catches in Castiel’s chest and he goes still under the sheets. Dean doesn’t pray absently or without intent. It was always to either call Cas to him or tell him something important. Or to plead--

( _God, Cas, please, I need you, please. Where are you, man? I can’t do this without you._

_I can take a hint but I’m not stopping, Cas. I’m not giving up on you. I know you’re out there and I’m gonna find you, okay?_

_I’m not giving up. Don’t make me give up. I can’t lose you, you’re too important._

_Please, Cas._

_Please._ )

Only recently, only since their last romp through Purgatory, did it seem that Dean would use prayer as a means of casual communication. To forgive, to apologize, to explain…to confess.

_I’m probably not supposed to be doing it like this, huh? Probably breaking some kinda angel rule. Which I guess is good. On brand for us._

Castiel can sense the amusement in Dean’s words and a chuckle rumbles through his own chest. Yes, very “on brand.”

_And either way, it’s gotta be breaking a few thousand angel rules to use prayer in order to tell your personal angel of the lord how you’re thinking about him, about his hands, about his mouth..._

Castiel goes completely still again. The humor is gone from Dean’s words, a searing hot sincerity in its place. That sincerity torrents through Castiel’s veins, pricking up his nerve endings. He feels alive with sensation, with awareness of Dean.

_‘Cause I’m really thinking about your hands, Cas, and your mouth. Wouldn’t be surprised if you had heard my thoughts a minute before, how loud they were._

That’s not how it works but Castiel barely processes that thought. Instead, he’s thinking about Dean thinking about his hands and mouth. He’s thinking about Dean’s hands and mouth. No, he’s thinking about his own hands, touching Dean. Fingers tracing his lips, pressing into muscle and scar tissue, mapping ribs and flush, tucking around Dean’s collars and buttons and hems to bare him before Cas...

_So I figured I’d break a few rules and pray to you. Like phone sex, huh? But better, ‘cause I remember one time you told me that you don’t just hear prayers, you feel ‘em._

God, does he. He does, he can feel the intention and the emotion and he’s just about on fire from Dean’s. He shifts under the sheets and steadfastly does not lower his boxers. At least, not yet.

_Wanted you to feel this, Cas. Feel how badly I want you. Wanted you to know. You gotta know. I mean, you gotta. Feels like forever, how long I’ve wanted you. Feels like it’s just another, you know, fact about me. Dean Winchester, Sammy’s big brother, hunter, likes his car, classic rock, is in love with his angel of the lord, Castiel._

For a few beats, Castiel doesn’t even breathe.

_Because that’s what it is. I love you, Cas. Fuck, I love you. And I’m gonna say it in person, to your face, I will. But first I wanna tell you about what I’ve been thinking about. About your hands on me. D’you think about that, Cas? About touching me?_

He does, he does, he does. Like Dean said, it’s been so long it feels like an inexorable part of himself. He wants Dean, wants to touch him, wants to mouth along the ridge of his collarbone, wants to love him, does love him.

_Loved that handprint you left on me, too. Miss it. I was never much for claiming stuff but it was more than that. And sometimes…. God, Cas, sometimes I’d jerk off with one hand and just fit my other hand over that mark of yours. Thought about you feeling it, through our “profound bond.” Thought about you knowing what I was doing. Well, guess you know now. I don’t have that handprint anymore, but I’m thinking about you, Cas, and I’ve got my own hand on my dick and I’m thinking about you._

Cas does shove his boxers down then and kicks the sheets away. The sheer heat that Dean is broadcasting through the prayer is lighting him up, sending his nerves singing and when he finally puts a hand on himself it’s like holy relief. He sobs out a breath and moves his hand slow to keep from overwhelming himself.

_Thinking about you leaning over me. God, it’s always you over me, Cas. So that you block out everything else so that all I can see is you and your stupid fucking eyes and your stupid fucking hair… One hand propping you up and the other between us, touching me. Usually, think about it slow. Sometimes I can’t stand it, think about it all rough and fast and desperate… But usually I think about how nice it would be to have time. To be able to take my time with you. Let you take your time with me._

Cas has thought about that too. He’s thought about taking Dean apart slowly. Figuring out every sensitive spot, every touch to pull forth every sound. Every sound, God, he wants to hear every sound that Dean can make. He wants to watch his pupils blow out so there’s only the thinnest ring of that pretty green left. He wants to -- Castiel’s breathing hitches as he catches around the head of his cock, already leaking. It makes the way easier, though, lets his hand some coast as he continues to work it along his length.

_I dunno what you -- I mean, we don’t talk about sex. Not like guys do but then I guess there’s never really been the time, huh? So I don’t know what you like, if you have a preference, but, fuck, Cas, I want you in me so bad. I never went for that, all that much. Guess you break all my rules too, huh?_

The last words go fuzzy because a high whine starts in Cas’s mind as soon as he hears that Dean wants Cas inside of him. The pure desire that’s passing through the prayer is serving up a crazy feedback loop, for Cas. His own desire piled on top of Dean’s, making his more intense. He only wishes that this were an open line, that Dean could hear and feel him, too. That he could tell Dean how much he wants to be in him, how he’s thought about it, thought about Dean’s perfect heat, the unmatched proximity. Cas’s hips jerk and circle at the fantasy and he closes his fist tighter. It’s not the same, not enough, but it still makes him punch out a soft cry..

_I think… Fuck. Cas, I think about your fingers in me, first. And your free hand in my mouth, so I can just be full of you. Pressing down on me… So I could know… Maybe my abandonment issues are coming out to play, but I need you on every inch of me, surrounding me, so I could know you’re really there. Not leaving._

Cas whines out again but it’s Dean’s name this time, a helpless little lilt of his breath as he picks up the pace on his cock. Because that thought, that image: Dean on his back, knees splayed wide for Castiel… His fingers working inside Dean and fit between his lips. Watching Dean suck and shudder, pink over his cheeks and nose and down his chest to match the plush of his mouth and tongue. Cas wants that, wants to be able to lean forward and taste the sweat on his neck, his collarbone. Wants to cant to one side and sink his teeth into the meat of the shoulder that once bore his palmprint. Wants to fit the length of him inside Dean, watch the other man tremble and shake and fall apart and say his name.

Arousal builds within him and Cas can’t control the soft noises dropping out of him any longer, can’t stop the catching inhale-exhales, the half-syllables of Dean’s name, the desperate “please, please.”

_Cas._

_I hope you can hear me. Hope you want to hear me, fuck. I don’t… I don’t wanna come alone, Cas. I want you… I’m gonna… Okay._

There’s a long shaky pause and Castiel has to grip at the base of his cock to calm himself, to keep himself from falling into the breakneck race toward climax. Because if Dean doesn’t want to come alone then Castiel will do everything in his power to ensure that he doesn’t.

When Dean’s voice comes through again it sounds brittle and uncertain. It sounds closer to Dean’s prayer in Purgatory.

_I’m gonna knock on your door and you can… You can either tell me to get the fuck out or I can tell you all of this to your face and we can...not be alone. Okay? But you gotta let me know, Cas. If you don’t want… It’s okay, okay? If you don’t want...this, me, you just gotta tell me so._

And Castiel’s heart breaks because of course he wants Dean. There isn’t a universe existing where he doesn’t want Dean. The steady thrum of Dean’s prayer fades away and Castiel can’t help the panic that surges through him from the loss. But then he can hear a door just a few yards down opening and closing. He can hear Dean’s shuffling footsteps and then Dean lingering at his door before knocking twice.

Cas takes the time to slip his boxers back up to his hips before he moves to the door and whips it open. There’s Dean, all red-cheeked and pupil-blown. Castiel pulls in a ragged breath and, before Dean can speak, gets a handful of his tee-shirt and pulls the hunter to him for a crushing kiss. 

Dean whines into it but is quick on the uptake, kissing back with his hands in Cas’s destroyed hair. Cas kisses him like he can taste his prayers under his tongue and presses his back into the doorjamb. Dean whines at that, at the way the hard lines of their cocks nudge together. When Cas finally pulls back, Dean is panting and slumped, eyes closed and with a high spot of blush across his nose and cheeks.

“I heard your prayer,” Castiel gasps out, and then dives back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> title from fun.'s "some nights"
> 
> come play with me on [ tumblr ](https://disasterfreewill.tumblr.com) or in the [server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond)!


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